Acclaimed singer-songwriter John Calvin Abney releases his highly-anticipated new EP Shortwaving, via his own Tin Canyon Records.
Shortwaving is John Calvin Abney’s first release since 2022’s travelogue album Tourist. Coming off a heavy year of celebrated touring into early 2023, a vocal injury requiring surgery lead to an extended break from touring and recording. He used the enforced hiatus to lean into writing and composing, as well working with other artists, as an oft-in-demand sideman (you might have seen him on stage with artists like John Moreland, Ben Kweller, Wild Child, Hanson, and countless others).
With his voice healed, Abney spent 2024 fervently writing and recording multiple new projects. Shortwaving, the first to be revealed, was recorded at Columbus, Ohio’s Secret Studio with a small group of friends, including co-producer Lydia Loveless on background vocals and engineering duties.
“It’s the first time since ‘Safe Passage’ that I’ve cut my songs live with a band in the studio, and having my voice back after surgery and rest, it felt like these tracks came from an ancient part of me that I haven’t spoken to in a long time,” say Abney. “It felt cathartic in a way I didn’t recognize until the first chord was hit.”
Shortwaving focuses on the central question of what you do when communication seems to be losing its ability to reach people. For Abney, the answer is to beam your message into the void regardless, almost as an act of faith. The result is a haunting set of country-rock laments, descended from classic end-of-the-party albums like Neil Young’s On The Beach and Jason Molina’s The Magnolia Electric Co. Chunky minor chords loop on repeat while ghostly slide guitar figures glide in and out of earshot. When Abney sings “There’s a devil in the dialtone,” we can hear exactly what he means.
Abney explores what he terms as unease – or fear, even – that comes from repeatedly sending signals into the atmosphere and hearing little but static and silence in response. As he puts it in the title track: “Swim the shortwave / Cutting in and out / I’m losing strength in these hills / Between the stations / Is the dark you heard about / Can you hear it now? / Shortwaving still.” One gets the feeling of accidentally stumbling upon the lost tapes of an obscure Midwestern band, amplifying incantations away in a hidden corner somewhere. These are songs about not being heard that sound almost private, as if they’re perhaps not meant to be heard.
Are you giving this one a spin?
